


Crazy Like A...

by HippieGeekGirl



Category: The A-Team (2010)
Genre: Animal Transformation, M/M, Mildly Crackish, Supernatural - Freeform, Voluntary Shapeshifting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 18:06:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1096930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HippieGeekGirl/pseuds/HippieGeekGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The team finally find out where Murdock's been disappearing to at night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crazy Like A...

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this photo](https://31.media.tumblr.com/8162c6b54b5427899652112b9a8ab340/tumblr_mgxxlbcOue1r09lako1_500.jpg) on Tumblr. 
> 
> I started writing this well before the "What Does The Fox Say?" video became popular, but feel free to imagine it if you like. I do.

The sun sank low on the California horizon as Face looked out over the scenery and bit back a curse. Their last job had gone south when one of their target's flunkies had tipped off the MPs, forcing them back on the run. Hannibal wouldn't let them stop until they'd reached the middle of the wilderness. Apparently laying low in a hotel was too risky.

And to top all of that off, Murdock kept disappearing.

He hadn't realized that Murdock wasn't staying in their tent until a few days into their self-imposed exile, when he'd woken up from a half-remembered dream to find an empty sleeping bag next to him. He'd tried not to panic as he assessed the situation – there were no apparent signs of foul play, nothing seemed out of place at all, and no one had seen or heard anything unusual. Murdock was just... gone. As the days wore on he continued to wake up to an empty tent occasionally, sometimes for a few nights in a row, only for his friend to show up none the worse for wear by sunrise. It was worrying, to say the least.

It was Face's turn on night watch, and while he could have used the company, Murdock was nowhere to be found again. Face was making plans to finally talk about it with him – if he was wandering off without meaning to, it could be a sign of something really bad – when he heard the distinct sound of twigs snapping in the surrounding woods. He held his weapon at the ready, scanning the edge of the clearing. 

Just as he was about to dismiss the noise as the passing of an animal, there was a flash of movement over by the van. “Shit.” He thumbed the button of the two-way radio on his belt. “Boss, we got company.”

Hannibal and BA emerged quietly from their tent as the trespasser made his presence known. One of Carlton's goons, no doubt ready to take revenge on them for ruining their operation, with a weapon of his own loaded for bear. Shit, this was not good...

Before anyone else could make a move, a shrill yowl erupted as a russet-colored blur entered the scene. The blur turned out to be a fox that took down their would-be assailant with two well-placed bites to the ankles, leaving him on the ground screaming. Job done, the fox retreated underneath the van as dust settled. 

“What the hell was that?” Face took an involuntary step back as the animal peeked out at the three of them.

“BA, take care of our guest.” Hannibal nodded as BA dragged the intruder to his feet and led him off limping, before kneeling down to look at their canine rescuer curiously. “I didn't think foxes were native to this area.”

As if understanding the conversation, the fox crept out to join them, pausing at Face's feet to look up at him with wide green eyes. Eyes he knew very well indeed. 

_Oh, shit._ “Murdock?”

He yipped, apparently happy to be recognized as Hannibal exchanged concerned looks with BA, just returned from showing Carlton's thug the door. “You okay, kid?”

_My best friend's a dog. That is not in any way okay._ Then the fox nudged his hand with a whimper and he felt guilty for even thinking it. 

“Aw hell no,” BA muttered, as the fox jumped into the back of the van. “What's that crazy fool done now?” After a moment, the animal returned with Murdock's – _his_ baseball cap in his jaws, tossing it into the air and pouncing on it with obvious enjoyment before rolling over at BA's feet. 

Face couldn't help the smile that threatened to take over his features as he watched Murdock play. “I think he's trying to prove he can still irritate you.”

It was impossible to translate the odd chirping noises to anything approximating human communication, but he could swear the fox was laughing.  
____

Murdock was back to normal the next morning, eating burnt marshmallows for breakfast with his unzipped sleeping bag wrapped around his pajama-clad shoulders like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. The only reminders of the previous night were the twigs and leaves still clinging to his hair, which Face instinctively reached out to brush away. 

“You back with us, buddy?” 

(Translation: Are we going to talk about this?) 

“Never left you, Faceman.” 

(Apparently not.) 

They didn't talk about it until later that night, when it was their turn to bunk in the van. It was cramped, but they'd shared close quarters plenty of times and at least it was warm. 

“It's okay to ask about it, you know,” Murdock said quietly. 

“I wasn't sure if you wanted me to.”

“It's fine.” He rolled over, burrowing further into his sleeping bag. “Just kinda hard to explain, is all.”

“How long have you been able to do it?”

“All my life.” Murdock shrugged. “Least as long as I can remember.”

“So... you were born that way?”

He snorted. “I love you, Face, but if you start singing Lady Gaga at me I'm gonna need to rethink our relationship.”

Face laughed in spite of himself. “Come on, man, I'm serious.”

“So am I.” 

Face reached out to give him an affectionate punch to the shoulder. “So how come we've never seen you do it before?”

“Didn't feel like I needed to, I guess. Bein' out here in the woods kinda woke something up inside me, I think.” He sighed, and Face suddenly realized how tired he looked.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just feels a little weird.” He rubbed a hand across his face. “Everything's loud... smells are stronger. Kinda like a hangover.”

“Really?” Face couldn't help being curious, it wasn't like this was an everyday occurrence. “What do you smell?”

Murdock sniffed, inhaling deeply. “Gas. Campfire. Old mangy floormats. And that stuff you use in your hair, smells like a forest after it rains.”

“Tea tree oil.”

“Yeah. 'S nice.” He curled a little further away. 

“Hey.” Face reached out to tug at his t-shirt, pulling him close again. “It's okay, you know.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I promise you, no one's going to think you're any weirder than you already were.”

“I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me.” He pulled the sleeping bag over his head again, but only briefly, as a much smaller form emerged from underneath it to nose hopefully at Face's hand. 

He smiled, running his fingers through soft fur, and together they slept.


End file.
